Few birds can turn a field into a theatre quite like the Lesser Florican.

In 2018, a rare sighting in the National Capital Region set birders, photographers and forest officials buzzing. Delhi’s location along a migratory route, combined with a rapidly growing birding community, has made the region an unlikely hotspot for rare sightings—even as pollution and shrinking green cover remain serious threats.

The Lesser Florican is usually seen during its breeding season from July to September. What it does during much of the rest of the year remains something of a mystery.

Once widespread across India, the bird is now largely confined to parts of Gujarat, Rajasthan, Maharashtra and Madhya Pradesh. Its decline mirrors the fate of India’s grasslands. What cranes are to wetlands, bustards are to grasslands. Disturb the habitat, and the bird disappears with it.

For years, I had planned a monsoon trip to the florican’s breeding grounds near Ajmer. Every year, something intervened. Plans changed. Groups dissolved. The bird remained elusive.

This August, the excuses finally ran out.

A friend and I drove from Delhi towards Nasirabad, nearly 400 km away. The monsoon had transformed Rajasthan. The Aravallis were green, fields were alive and the road itself felt like part of the expedition.

At 6 AM, our guide led us into farmland. Within minutes, there it was.

A male Lesser Florican suddenly sprang several feet into the air. Wings fluttered. Neck arched backwards. A croaking call followed. Then came a gentle, parachute-like descent.

Again. And again.

For nearly two hours, we watched one of India’s most remarkable courtship displays.

The trip delivered more—Indian coursers, bushlarks, francolins, thick-knees, nightjars and an Indian eagle owl.

But the florican stayed with me.

Some journeys are about adding a bird to a list. Others remind you how much can disappear before we realise what we have lost.

Copyright: Maneet Pal Singh